I Need More Hugs Than Normal People
January 25, 2013 § 7 Comments
Do you want to hear the wonderful way in which my father tricked me into holding the dead frozen carcass of my most beloved pet? Of course you do.
I’ll start from the beginning. When I was nine I had a beautiful pure-breed mini rex bunny named Velvet. I loved Velvet. Velvet was awesome.
This particular Summer my mom convinced my sister and I to take a road trip with her from Northern Cali down to Southern Cali to spend a few days in Disneyland. (At least that is the story we were told. What we weren’t told was, we’d be taking several planned ‘pit-stops’ at ALL of the California Missions.)
My dad, being much smarter than us, said he would be staying home.
We were gone about two weeks and in that time I had missed Velvet dearly. So naturally, the first thing I did upon returning home was cheerfully run to his cage, bend down and pick him up. “Wake up little baby Velvet.” I said. Only Velvet didn’t wake up.
I realized something was wrong. Very wrong. I thought to myself while petting his smooth, damp, hard as ice, freezing cold body. ’Strange? I don’t remember Velvet being so…so… FROZEN?!’
Turns out, my dad had apparently “forgotten to mention” that Velvet had indeed died while we were away. So with the very best intentions, he made what he thought was the most logical choice at the time. He had placed Velvet in a storage size Ziploc bag, put that bag into the freezer and then returned the rock hard frozen bunny body back into the cage moments before we arrived. As if none of it had happened.
Upon hearing this – my nine year old self screamed, “You murderer! How could you let Velvet die??!” With years of insight between myself and this incident as a full grown woman I would now yell – “You murderer! How could you let Velvet fucking die??!”
To patch up this situation my parents quickly replaced Velvet with Cookie. Only Cookie was an asshole. Cookie scratched the shit out of you every time you attempted to hold him. And just like the asshole he was, Cookie took his sweet time dying of natural causes.
If I went to therapy, my therapist would probably say that replacing dead pets immediately with new un-dead* pets, without proper time for mourning, has formulated how I deal with loss of any kind in adulthood. But therapy is for people with solid health coverage.
To my family:
Dad – This is an official, ‘No offense’, which means you can not have Mom call me to tell me that I’m shaming the family name by putting everything up on the “world wide web”. You’ve taught me a lot of really valuable shit. One of those lessons being, how not to handle the death of a beloved childhood pet. Thank you.
Mom – I’m really glad I’ve seen ALL of the California Missions. Thank you.
This post is dedicated to Velvet. I’ll see you in bunny heaven and I’ll never ever let anything bad happen to you again.
What The F*ck Did I Do In A Past Life To Deserve That Level Of Childhood Pranking:
*By un-dead, I do not mean zombie animals.